


Reboot II - Hellbound

by PastaBucket



Category: Hellraiser (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, Angst and Tragedy, Buddhism, Eventual Smut, F/M, Hospitalization, Humiliation, Psychological Horror, Psychologists & Psychiatrists, Rape Aftermath, Rape Recovery, Self-Harm, Uncle/Niece Incest, Zen Buddhism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-09-28 10:43:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 19
Words: 7,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17181452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PastaBucket/pseuds/PastaBucket
Summary: This is my reboot of Hellbound - the sequel to my reboot of Hellraiser.It continues to follow Kirsty, as she is hospitalized. I won't spoil anything more than that.I feel like an extra trigger warning is in order: This series isn't just dealing with dark subject matter, but is specifically written to be triggering to rape survivors. If you're not prepared to face your demons, then don't enter here.(Tip: If you're looking for the smut, it's in chapter 13, 14, 17 and 18. It's canon-freaky, though.)





	1. Kirsty remembers

"Do you know why you're here?" The voice cut straight in her mind.

She found herself sitting on a chair in an office.

"Kirsty?", the man patiently repeated. "Do you know why you're here?"

"... No.", she mumbled.

"No recollection at all?"

Kirsty remembered standing over the sink, dry heaving. However, there was a part of her mind, that was just like a dark fire of oblivion, screamingly hot to the touch, and that, she'd learned to stay away from. She remembered putting on her mask to greet her parents when they came to pick her up. She remembered Frank...

The next moment the fire consumed her and she was sucked back into the bedroom where the experience cut into her mind like blades. She screamed in torment and tried to fend him off, but it was already too late. He was having her, and her body wanted it so bad, and she didn't matter at all.

She came to in the fetal position on the floor, her body having curled up to protect itself, every muscle in her body tense and trembling violently, her pussy lubricating to recieve another go.

Behind her a nurse stuck a needle into her shoulder, and a moment later her mind and body slow began to relax and drift off, this time on soft clouds where everything felt nice and safe and okay.

On weak legs, the nurses shephered her back to her bed. Even the sturdy leather restraints they secured her with felt nice and safe. Frank felt nice and safe. His penis felt nice and safe too as it fucked her to a climax. Everything was okay and alright.


	2. Kirsty gets introduced to Dr. Channard

By the time the man from earlier entered her room, her mind had surfaced again, and slowly washed up the shore of a different kind of oblivion.

"I do apologize.", ho told her, giving her a warmhearted smile. "I had no idea that you would respond so... ...violently. Let's try again. I'm Doctor Philip Channard, head psychiatrist of this ward."

"Kirsty.", she responded. "Kirsty Cotton. Why... Why am I here?"

Channard startled her enough to pull at her restraints, when he prompty lifted her covers and pulled up the right sleeve of her shirt.

Her arm wore numerous scars, all fresh, but it was the parts where she'd begun to peel at the skin that was the worst eyesore.

"The other arm isn't looking much better.", he remarked.

"I'm here for those?", she asked. "What do you care? It's my body. I can do what I want with it."

"I'm afraid not. Patients deemed to be a danger to themselves or others, are entrusted into the supervision and protective care of this ward, where you will remain until you can prove that you can handle yourselves."

"I wasn't harming myself. It's just a piece of skin.", Kirsty pleaded.

"That's an interesting way to look at it. You seem lucid enough now, to partake in the morning group therapy sessions. Would you like that?"

"What 'I'd like' is to get out of here.", Kirsty frowned.

"That's the spirit. We'll have the orderlies fetch you tomorrow then. In the meantime, try to get some rest."

He turned and left, continuing his round elsewhere.

Kirsty looked at the restraint. "Funny guy.", she pouted to herself.


	3. The cenobites come

Outside the window, the rumble of the oncoming storm was closer now.

She couldn't sleep. Every time she tried to relax, she started to think, and when she started to think, she started to remember, until she remembered too much and screamed and tugged at her restraints out of anguish.

Instead her eyes darted around between the walls in the darkness of the room. It was the only view she had from her bed. ...but with the clouds amassing to block out even the moonlight outside, the darkness soon consumed even the walls.

It was when the first flash lit up the room again, that she saw to her horror that she wasn't alone any longer.

They just stood there, lining the walls, staring in front of themselves. The ones she'd seen when she was solving the box. Joshu - the silent one. Hyakujo, Gutei, Wakuan. It was just a handful of them, but it was enough to make her scream in terror.

They were here because of her. They were here to take her with them again, back into the box.

Gutei raised his student's cut-off finger and held it up. In her lap the top portion of the box started to drift apart and slowly rise.

The next lightning strike lit up the room, but it lit up nothing but ceiling and floor, because the walls were no longer there.

The box slowly turned 45 degrees.

"No! Please! Stop! He'll come for me!", she screamed.

...but the box had no intention of listening. With a fast slide, the top portion was brought down into a seal.

 

Kirsty woke up screaming her lungs out, tugging at the restraints like a maniac. It wasn't until she'd calmed down that she understood that it had all been a nightmare, and also that she'd pissed herself. The remainer of the night was going to be cold and wet.

"Oh just great.", she sighed in defeat.


	4. Kirsty has her first group session

"It's nothing to be ashamed about.", the orderly said. "Pissing yourself, I mean. We can give you a daiper if you want. There's no going to the bathroom at night. Doctor's orders." He gave her another look. "You look like shit.", he remarked.

"I couldn't sleep.", Kirsty mumbled.

"I guess that's understandable.", he said, loosening her restraints. "If you want we can swing by the showers and get you a new pair of clothes. Well, a stylish hospital gown rather. Don't wanna make a bad first impression, now do we?"

 

When she joined the session, it was well underway. She had no idea who all those people were, except that they had to be crazy to be there, which wasn't a comforting thought.

Upon request, she began her introduction. "My name is Kirsty.", she replied. "I'm not really sure why I'm here.", she said, subconsciously scratching the newly applied bandages on her right arm. "I just don't think it's a big deal."

"Well, that's what we're here to talk about.", the nurse said. "The other patients have already shared as much as they feel comfortable with, but you don't have to if you don't feel up to it."

"...but if I won't tell you, you won't release me either.", Kirsty cut through the bullshit.

"Well, unfortunately no. We all have to start somewhere."

Kirsty sighed. "It just... ...makes me feel alive. It makes me feel real. It... ...anchors me."

"Anchors you?"

"In the present. It keeps me from... ...daydreaming, I guess."

"Is selfharm common in your family?", the nurse wondered.

Frank's mutilated face flashed before Kirsty's eyes, making her twitch so much she jumped in her seat.

"... No. Nothing like that."

"I see. Well that's reassuring. For how long has this been going on?"

"You fucking whore! I'm going to fuck you so bad!", Frank screamed in her face. Kirsty yelped and almost toppled off her chair before she realized it had just been another memory. She took deep breaths trying to collect herself and calm her beating heart again.

She had failed miserably to keep up appearances.


	5. Channard gets updated on Kirsty

The nurse dropped off the folder in his inbox. "Your new patient had another episode mid-session. It looks like sudden acute distress - likely flashbacks brought on by some traumatic event."

"Spare me your evaluations.", Dr. Channard mumbled while tending to more urgent documents. "We'll take good care of her."

"Do you want me to spell it out for you? She's been raped!" She gave Channard a stern look.

"...or she's highly psychotic, and we'll find out which sooner or later.", Channard frowned back at her insolent tone. "Meanwhile get her on some valium or something. ...and don't let her pick at those nasty scabs - give her a jacket." He returned to his papers.

It wasn't until the nurse had left, that he picked the file out of the box.

"Kirsty Cotton", he read, before familiarizing himself with the rest of the patient information. "Admitted by her family... Acute self-harm... Panic attacks..."

It was too early to tell, but she could prove promising.


	6. Kirsty is a harm to herself

Kirsty let out a hushed moan from the sensation, hopefully absorbed by the walls of the toilet. Oh God it felt so good. Masturbation had nothing on this. The pain washed through every corner of her mind, washing away all of its thoughts and memories, leaving her clean and real. She scratched until the wetness against her fingers became worrying even to her. When she looked down on her arm, it was just soaked in blood. Kirsty just smiled at it. It was just blood. It was just flesh. People were so squeamish.

The knock on the door startled her. "Kirsty? Are you in there?"

"Fuck!" She noticed now, that the blood had soaked into her gown. There was no way she'd be able to cover this up.

 

"I'm not wearing that!", she shouted angrily at the orderly holding the white jacket as she backed up against the wall.

"Look, it's just for your protection. You're not well.", he stated, but kept his distance. The patient's arm was still dripping beads of blood on the floor.

"It's not real! It's just flesh! It doesn't have any real meaning!", she screamed at him before the newly arrived orderlies charged her. "Only pain is real!", she screamed as they began forcing the straight jacket on her.


	7. Kirsty gets relocated

Channard entered the elevator, followed by the orderly escorting Kirsty. He inserted his key into the lock at the bottom of the panel, and the elevator began to move.

"You know, I have to admit I'm a bit disappointed in you.", Channard gave her a glance. "When we first met, you gave me the impression of a young girl who could handle herself - the bed restraints were just a precaution. ...but you caused quite a scene back there."

Kirsty said nothing back. She felt like with her right to move her arms, they'd also taken away her right to an opinion. All she was now, was a neatly tied up white package, arms tied to her hips in a very humiliating fashion. She just tried her best to keep her armless balance in the moving elevator, as it made its descent.

With the aid of the key, the elevator descended all the way past the ground floor, until the very bottom of the elevator buttons lit up. Soon Kirsty was taken past rows of cell doors - some noisier with screams than others.

They stopped at one of the cell doors.

"Now, I'm truly sorry for this, but we're going to have to keep you here for close observation until you calm down and you let those wounds heal. You will be checked up on every hour, and you'll be able to request potty breaks then. I'll be with you shortly and we can discuss this more thoroughly - how does that sound?"

"Bite me.", Kirsty growled in a last act of defiance, before she was push inside the small padded cell and its sturdy metal door was locked behind her.


	8. Kirsty experiences an hour of hell

Kirsty could do nothing else but slump to the cushioned floor and remain there as the footsteps echoed away. Around her four padded walls rose up to a dim ceiling light, along with a ventilation that emitted a highpitched whining sound, as a base tone for distant screams of madness.

As unknown spans of time passed, stretched out over the pits of eternity, it wasn't long because she stood before her uncle's house again. Part of her soul felt like she'd never really left it. She remembered Frank. The uncle she'd loved. What he turned into. ...and then she too screamed, as she was once again in his bed, the monster thrusting itself inside of her, and her will being discarded to the furthest back of her mind as her body wasn't hers anymore.

She continued screaming as she returned to her cell, adding her own vocals to the cacophony of the choir of the damned, only to find Joshu sitting opposite her, slowly and calmly sowing his own mouth shut. She felt herself being drawn across his barrier, into the first degree of nothingness beyond, but something was holding her back. She soon realized that it was the pain from her having instinctively bit down on her own lower lip, to the point where she almost bit through it. She focused on the teeth tearing into the flesh, making it scream, her tears falling down her cheeks.

She jumped as the hatch was drawn open, snapping back into reality. It was the orderly checking up on her as part of his rounds.

"You've got to get me out of here!", she begged him.

"Do you need to go?", he asked - a lifeless, uncaring phrase that it had repeated thousands of times before.

"Yes! Please! Anything!"


	9. Kirsty takes a shit

Her leg muscles struggled to lengthen into a walk, as it brought her through the cell halls with a firm hand around the collar of her jacket.

She glanced at the other cell doors as she passed them, understanding to her horror that it was the fresh patients who screamed, while the other captives had descended so far into madness that they no longer knew how to communicate. She wondered just how long it would take, before there was no going back. She wondered if Dr. Channard even caring enough to remember her name, had just been a pretty speech designed to cajole a final hope to blossom, to be slowly crushed along with the rest of her.

It brought her into a fairly large bathroom, closing the door behind them.

"Some privacy, please?", she pleaded, only for the orderly to silently pull down her pants and underwear.

She was seated on the toilet, the orderly standing next to her with his hand placed on the back of her jacket. This was how she was meant to take a shit.

With his hand still placed on her back to steady her, she pushed out what she could, but she was actually just glad for the change of scenery. This was a brief respite - what was left of the normal world to cling to.

"Okay, I'm done.", she ultimately decided. "Now what?"

...but she already knew what was going to happen. She gave out a panicked scream as the orderly bent her over and proceeded to methodically wipe her anus and labia clean. Her nervous system screamed from the feeling of the coarse, dry paper casually scraping over her hood and clitoris, making her hair stand on end.


	10. Kirsty meets Tiffany

She took every chance that she could to be accompanied to the toilet from then on - every precious ending of what she had been told was just an hour. As she grew experienced, she began to learn be just aroused enough as she was bent over, that the wipedown could satisfy her hunger for sanity, her lubrication serving as the paint to mix the humiliation, pain and pleasure together into new sensations. Unable to satisfy herself, she knew that if she wasn't rescued soon, this uncaring robot of a man, would become her lifelong lover.

...but this time the disinterested voice said something different: "He'll see you now."

 

Escorted through a different set of subterrainian corridors, Kirsty was finally parked on a chair in a waiting room. Where as normal waiting rooms had windows that filtered in sunlight, and plastic plants to give a welcome air of hospitality, this room was only lit up unnaturally, by flourescent lighting.

She wasn't alone here. On the floor at the other end of the room, a ten year old child was playing with a wooden trainset. Kirsty found it bizarre to see a child in this setting. She didn't seem to pay Kirsty any attention, so she must be used to other patients in straight jackets.

Having brought Kirsty to her appointed destination, the orderly soon made his silent exit, leaving them both to their own devices.

"Hey.", Kirsty said in a hushed voice as she leant forward. "So how's it going?"

The young girl didn't respond.

"Hey! I'm talking to you.", Kirsty tried again.

This time the blonde girl stopped and looked up at her.

"What are you doing here?", Kirsty wondered. "You can't be a patient here. ...can you?"

After another glance, the girl just returned to her trainset without a word.

"Man, I wish I could get out of here.", Kirsty continued, leaning back against the wall again, not really caring that the child wasn't listening to her. It was the closest to a normal conversation she'd had in a long while, and if she had any hopes left of returning to a normal life, she needed to learn how to at least feign a normal human conversation. "I didn't do anything to deserve this. It's not... ...fair. It's just flesh, you know?"

A moment later the door to the office opened, and she heard Dr. Channard's voice call out to her from inside: "Tiffany? It's your turn. Come along."

The girl rose up off the floor and began to walk over to the open door. She looked up at Kirsty as she did so, and Kirsty found herself locking eyes with the girl. The girl slowed down to a halt at the treshold to the office, still staring straight at Kirsty, as if she was trying to silently tell her something. The small fingers that the girl had clutched around the door frame in order to secure her from being dragged inside, didn't have the strength to hold on, though, and a moment later she was sucked into the office, and the door closed behind her.


	11. Kirsty and Channard talk

Kirsty sat there for a while, trying to listen for anything coming from the office, but it was fruitless. On top of the wall being concrete, the door seemed equally soundproof.  
An hour later the orderly from before came to pick her up. This time Tiffany passed her without acknowledging her presence, her head hung low and her eyes burrowed into the floor before her. The orderly parked her at the door to the hallway, to escort Kirsty inside Dr. Channard's office.

"Ah: Kirsty. Do come in.", Channard exclaimed at the sight of her.

The orderly escorted her to the chair in front of his desk, and transfered her bound arms to the thick leather restraints of the arm rests, before leaving and closing the door behind him.

This office was quite different from the one above. It was hard to put her finger on it, except for a general darker and more sinister tone.

"How are we feeling today?", Channard leaned over his desk with a warm smile, before noticing her lower lip. "Oh, those are some nasty bite marks you've acquired. Inventive. We need to do something about those before you chew it all off - a bit, perhaps."

"Please. I just want to get out of here.", Kirsty begged. "They're coming for me."

"They?", he wondered in a soft tone.

Kirsty realized her mistake too late. "I promise not to hurt myself anymore - please! Just let me go.", she began sobbing.

"I'm afraid it's not that simple. It's in our business to help people, and you are in such dire need of help, Kirsty. The nurses tell me you exposed bone up there. What could drive a person to such perverted acts?"

"Please - I just want to go home!", Kirsty wailed. "If I don't hurt myself, they'll come for me!"

"...and who are 'they', Kirsty?"

Kirsty fell silent with realization as the last traces of hope abandoned her: With those words she was never getting out of there. She'd never make him understand even if he would listen to her every word.

"Come now, Kirsty.", Channard said, rising from his seat. "There are no secrets here."

As he rounded his desk, Kirsty was finally exposed to his old hairy legs, ending in a dangling penis, still semi-flacid and glistening from yet undried vaginal secretions. As he slowly approached Kirsty, she could even see a long strand of ejaculate dripping from its tip.

Pulling back with renewed disgust, Kirsty began to furiously pull at her restraints, but they were made for much stronger patients than she was.

"Down here I alone hold dominion.", Channard continued. "As the arbiter of the very concept of sanity, I reside over these wanting denizens, and they look to me to bring them salvation."

With arms tired from the feriocious struggle, Kirsty gave up, the air burning in her lungs.

"Don't be afraid, child.", Channard said as he gently ran his fingers through her uncombed hair. "You're home now. From this point on, I'll be your father."


	12. Kirsty and Channard talk about the box

"Tell me, Kirsty. What did it feel like?" Channard's molesting fingers continued to run through her hair, his reach being longer than her ability to evade it.

"I don't know what you're talking about.", Kirsty persisted.

"Don't play games with me, Kirsty. I am a trained psychiatrist. I can tell just how sullied you are from a single look. The frayed edges of a broken psyche. The glow gone from your eyes. I make people like you, Kirsty."

With that he let go of her, and seated himself behind his desk again.

"Why do you want to know?" She glared at him like the caged animal she was. She knew that he was going to pry it all out of her eventually. "Why don't you ask Tiffany?"

"Tiffany is mute, dear. She stopped speaking a long time ago.", Channard said matter-of-factly. "Besides, I was there. I know exactly how she broke, and what broke first. It's you I'm interested in."

Kirsty wanted to tell him to go to hell, but she knew she couldn't talk back against somebody who could easily lock her in a cell and throw away the key. In frustration she tugged so hard at the restraint that she could audibly hear her wound tearing open, pain washing over her in a torrent.

"There was a box. A puzzlebox. He taught me how to solve it, and then... ...he saved me from it.", she spit out.

"Saved you? How?" She had his full attention.

"The box, it helps you resolve your desires. It untangles your perception, until nothing of your soul remains."

"Go on."

"Well, Fra-..." For once she caught herself. "He saved me. He brought me back. He gave me a reason to live. He gave me a reason to fear."

"Fascinating." Unlike those other times, this time his words seemed sincere. "In my years of practicing ego break therapy, I have never heard of rape restoring it again."

"Maybe you should try it.", she sneered.

Dr. Channard paid her mocking remark no attention. "You mentioned 'them'. Who were you referring to?"

"The patriarchs. The cenobites. The guardians of the box. Once you've solved the koans and passed through their barriers, suffering is all that stand between you and emptiness."

Channard made some notes before looking up again. "...and where is the box now, Kirsty?"

Kirsty just stared at him in disbelief. "You can't be serious."


	13. Kirsty meets the surgeon

After escorting her through yet another corridor, the orderly brought her into the surgical suite. Without stopping the orderly then hoisted her up onto the large metal tray of the surgery table, before the tall figure standing by for the procedure.

"Patient female arrived at sixteen-oh-thirtytwo hours. Responsive and cooperative.", it mumbled to itself under its surgical mask, as the orderly removed Kirsty's jacket and shirt, and began securing her to the table via yet another set of straps - two for her wrists, one around her waist, two for her ankles, and one around her throat.

She immediately tensed up as the bare skin on her back found out just how mercilessly cold the metal was.

"Patient suffered multiple lacerations on arms, left arm superficial, right arm stage 1 hemorrhage.", the surgeon continued, before he began squirting some kind of liquid into and around the wound on her arm. The burning sensation that followed felt like her entire arm was on fire. Her first instinctive reaction was to kick her heel into the table as hard as she could just to distract herself, until she realized that she needed to savour every ounce of it for the upcoming stay in her cell. She closed her eyes and took long, trembling breaths.

"Patient agitated by desinfectant.", the surgeon droned on, before swiftly spreading her wounds open with its fingers. "Right arm site shows damaged fat and muscle tissue. Severed minor blood vessels. Repairable. Aputation not needed."

The next thing she knew, there was a sharp explosion of pain in her arm the made her shriek, followed by another. The bastard was stabbing an instrument into her arm, and there was smoke rising from it.

"Vessels cauterized.", the surgeon reported to himself with calm satisfaction.

It quickly moved on to grab a large metal clamp, and even before it reached Kirsty's arm she realized that she needed to scream. The clamp stretched together all of the skin on her arm, squeezing it together into a sharp burning crescendo much worse than anything that had come before it, making her shriek and writhe on the table like a wild animal. She instinctively tried janking her arm from its grip, but the surgeon held on like a vice, and she stopped short of dislocating her shoulder, the intense sensation throbbing through her body.

A short moment later the first staple shooting into her made her arch back as far as the strap over her midsection would allow, and her body began to spasm uncontrollably to the rhythm of the staple gun. As she gasped for breath, she realized that she was cumming, her vaginal muscles contracting hard with every inserted staple, a shameless, drawnout, guttural groan of darkest passion erupting from her throat.

Finally the surgeon dropped her arm. "Patient closed and conscious at sixteen-oh-thirtyfour hours. Survived procedure.", it mumbled.

Her head still dizzy and her knees weak, the orderly dressed her back up. She wasn't aware of the large rubber bit until he had already shoved it into her mouth. Realizing what this meant, she tried to protest by shaking her head, but the orderly didn't even look at her as he escorted her back to her cell, and shoved her inside to be consumed.


	14. Kirsty comes to terms with what she's become

Kirsty's tounge desperately explored against the soft plastic ridges of the bit in her mouth, looking for an opening that could lead to some kind of shift, that would ultimately reward her with pain, but it was useless. Whatever sadist had designed the thing, had made a good job securing her jaw in place.

Giving up, she burst into tears. What was she? What had she become? Just a mere month ago her biggest concern had been what movies to watch and what music to listen to, and how homework could go suck it. Now she was never going to see the sun again, and her very nervous system and mind responded in new, strange alien ways that wasn't even human anymore. Even animals knew the fundamentals of shying away from pain. She was something different. She lusted to be ravaged and torn, broken and used. The Kirsty she had grown up with, was now gone - but a fading memory of what it was like to live on what might as well be a different planet - and she was now made into something else.

At least the staples hurt. It was the only island of pain that she could cling to now, but even now she felt it slowly sinking into merciless clarity. Rubbing her arm against the soft wall helped to feed the flame so far, but she realized that Dr. Channard might not come for her anymore, and with time her wound would heal and the pain would seize.

 

She closed her eyes and was back in Channard's office, standing before the doctor as he bent a naked Tiffany over the side of his desk. Kirsty was unrestrained, but she didn't move. She wanted to watch as Channards thick, veiny erection slowly began expanding the hole of the ten year old. As it began sinking into the child, to a birthgiving volume, Tiffany once again locked eyes with Kirsty. As she saw the last glimmers of hope die in them, Kirsty felt a sense of satisfaction - even happiness.

Kirsty made her way over to the pair as Channard started his thrusting, knelt down face to face with the mechanically grunting girl, and gently caressed her cheek. "Embrace it, dear. It'll feel good if you only let it."

Her hands moved on to caress the tender skin of the child, feeling across her tiny back muscles as they tensed and relaxed to the doctor's rhythm. He made people like Kirsty. Soon she'd have a kin. A kin who would understand her.


	15. Kirsty talks to Channard about the box again

Once Kirsty had once again been secured in the chair, her withered arm muscles straining to realign and her freed jaw struggling to close once again, Channard signaled for the orderly to leave them.

If the office looked more sinister before, now that her senses were waking up from the pain, it looked even more sinister now. The presence was heavier here, the air felt colder, and she knew why.

The box rested on the table. Once the orderly had closed the door behind him, Channard picked it up, and held it up for inspection. "It's an elaborate thing - much more elaborate than I imagined it to be. Beautiful in its own right."

"How did you get it?" Kirsty tried to hide her concern.

"Oh, he wasn't hard to convince. He actually looked quite anxious to be rid of it. A guilty conscience is eager to please. It hardly required any coersion. He gave me the book too. Apparently it's some kind of manual."

Too afraid to ask, Kirsty could only hope that Frank was okay. "That's why I'm here, isn't it? ...to help decode it for you."

"I'm not going to ask nicely.", Channard said in a calm tone.

"There's nothing left that you can do to me.", Kirsty sneered at him.

"True.", Channard nodded. "...but I can offer you your freedom." He held up the box again, turning it in his hand. "Consider this box a testament to your sanity."

Kirsty didn't know what to say.

"If what you're saying is true,", Channard continued. "then what I'm holding in my hand is nothing short of a revolution in psychiatry. The key to unlocking the human mind, and molding its will like clay."

"You're mad.", Kirsty sneered.

"Oh we're all mad, Kirsty. If I understand the late Buddha correctly, our attachments is what makes us human. ...but as a Bodhisattwa, I would become undeniable in my teachings. I've only scratched the surface of its potential, and the sights it's shown me thus far has brought a vertigo of its own."

"Alright - on one condition." Kirsty locked eyes with the doctor and growled: "Get me out of this fucking jacket!"


	16. Kirsty bares witness to the making of a new hell

Freedom.

One of the many relative concepts that just dissolved the more she thought about it.

In Channard's attempt to preserve her precious sanity, he had given her permission to accompany the orderly when he wasn't busy with his rounds. The orderly didn't mind. In fact even now, he still seemed unaware of her inconsequential existence, his graveyard stare kept directly in front of him and his lips silent. It mirrored that of the surgeon's droning voice - a long lost remnant of procedures done with a recorder. The captives here were just flesh to them, to be maintained and patched up at the doctor's mercy.

...and this mercy had begun to falter and plummet to infernal depths.

She was locked up while the orderly handled other patients, but she noticed how the treatments had picked up in frequency. She could figure out where they were being taken. She could hear the screams. When those were absent, they were instead taken to Channard's office, for more inner work.

The ward had now become Channard's playground, and the glimpses that Kirsty caught of his entrusted patients, were more twisted by the day.

...yet there was a silence about them, Mumonkan's koans having caged their minds into submission, and maybe even satisfaction.

The cold air, with its eerie presence, had now begun to permeate the entire basement level, as Channard pried at the box, learning its secrets.

A normal person would feel regret for what she'd help bring about, but Kirsty just felt... ...at home.


	17. Kirsty gets freaky with the orderly

Kirsty smiled at the orderly as he opened the cell door for her. "Well? What do you think?", she said, shamelessly showing her naked body off to him.

The man just stood there, holding the door open, completely unphased.

"Well that's appreciation for you.", Kirsty joked as she exited. At this point the astonishing stoicism had become a game to her - seeing for far she could push him before she found some kind of line that she could cross.

She had begun to allow herself to pass through the barriers, embracing the outskirts of oblivion. She had to, in order to keep an even footing with Channard's powerful presence. That's why even now, when she stepped out into the hallway, the chilling cold just attacked and stiffened up her skin, and didn't quite seep into her soul.

She looked up at him as they walked toward the toilet, his eyes never meeting hers. "I wonder sometimes, if you're really a man underneath all of that. What's the facade? It is the man, or the monster?" She gently cupped his buttocks. "You don't get lonely down here?", she smiled.

As she playfully squeezed his glute, the orderly silently just swiped her hand away. At least that was a reaction to her antics.

She still wasn't privilieged enough to be allowed privacy, but the shame that she'd felt the first time, had by now given in to an amused a sense of power. There was only a privilieged few, who had their very own unquestioning servant who would wipe their butt on command.

"Finished.", she proclaimed, smiling as he got to work.

...but she wasn't done. She eyed the shower in the corner. "You know, I still don't feel clean. I'm feeling a bit dirty all over today. I think I'm going to have a shower."

He didn't even flinch when she handed him the showerhead and the soap, still smiling. She'd been too ashamed to request it before, but this was part of the routine as well.

He made sure that the water was body temperature before beginning to rinse her back. Giggling sadistically, Kirsty turned to face him, teasingly fonding her breasts at him under the beam. Surely this had to register a response somewhere in his brain tissue.

If it did, he didn't show it.

"I think I'm wet enough now. Lather me.", she commanded.

The man's experienced hands proved just as shameless as she was. How many showerings of patients this man must have undergone. Her shoulders and her breasts made not the slighest difference to him. He wasn't the gentlest, but Kirsty liked the rough handling.

"I think my chest is especially dirty. You need to really rub the soap into them." She started out giggling at his unflinching motions, as he did as instructed, sliding the soap over her tender parts, but soon her increased breathing began to interfere. The game was beginning to melt away.

"Down there.", she spoke softly, directing his hand toward her wet crotch. "I'm so very dirty down there you wouldn't believe." She began to moan as the orderly's hand began to rub her skin. She placed her hand on his and turned around to draw him in closer, and began to direct his rubbing motions from her groin to her venus. She gasped from the pleasure as the two connected. She'd never been touched like this before - not by somebody else.

To her disappointment, the hand pulled away shortly thereafter, as the orderly decided he was done.

"Oh, you tease.", Kirsty groaned somewhere been a joke and frustration. She burrowed her eyes into his. "I don't think you understand just what a dirty girl I am. I've been soiled to the very core of me, and there's only one cure for that - only one thing that can reach that deep. I want you to clean me. Now do a good job.", she said, spreading her lips at him.

She felt a commanding power in those words that was new, and as a response the orderly tensed up, unsure. She'd finally reached something in him.

"That's right. I'm in your head now.", she smiled triumphantly. "You want to do a good job, don't you? That's okay - I'll help." She kneeled at his pants and began to undo them, as the soap and the showerhead slumped to his side. His cock was the only cock available to her, and she felt the primal hunger for it building as she pulled down his pants to expose his crotch.

Confused she stared at the small plastic valve of the urinary catheter, trying to make sense of it. Where his cock and balls would be, there was nothing by a decisive surgical scar.

Beginning to realize why this had been done, Kirsty pulled away with a scream full of shame. This hadn't been the first time a patient had gone too far.


	18. Channard cures Kirsty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: This is not a depiction of healthy therapy.  
> ...but if healthy therapy isn't available, well, sometimes you just have to amputate.

Her skin and flesh her only clothing, Kirsty opened the door to Channard's office and varily stepped inside.

The desk was gone, exposing the naked, reclining doctor in all his fat, wrinkly glory, his jacket draped around the back of the chair. All around the doctor shadows had consumed the walls. Kirsty felt like she was standing on the edge of a precipice, and that he was it.

"This will be our final session, child.", Channard said, one hand holding the box, the other casually resting on the head of the obedient and submissive Tiffany. "There is nothing more that you can teach me."

Kirsty just needed to look around them, to know that this was true. The nexus was so powerful that even Tiffany must be picking it up.

"The power of this box is almost overwhelming.", Channard continued. "It's powerful enough to utterly consume any curious wielder foolish enough to tamper with it, as it once consumed you. It takes a certain measure of discipline and distancing, to truly master it." Kirsty slowly became aware of the figures that had begun to emerge out of the shadows along the walls. "Once you were theirs, but then you were torn from their grasp, and now you continue to allude them."

"We had a deal!", Kirsty shouted over the whining gale. "The box for my freedom!"

Channard's belly bobbed up and down as he laughed an amused laugh. "So we did, child. So we did. ...but what doctor would I be if I didn't cure you first? You are to be my final patient in this ward, before I start expanding up above, to bring in a new batch of patients to replace the inevitable casualties. Come to me, child."

What would normally be something unthinkable to obey from a normal person, Kirsty found herself willing and eager to obey, her will just being a tumbling paper tissue in the wind. Now she fully understood what Channard meant by "undeniable". She thought that she could defy him, and she had been wrong. He had the only cock in the entire ward. It would have to do.

"Long I've been wanting to taste you, Kirsty." Channard wet his lips, his penis fully erect. "How badly did he ravage you? Did he tear you? I believe exposure therapy is the key here."

Kirsty found herself straddling his legs, no longer feeling anything inside. ""What about Tiffany?", she said as she felt Channards hands clasp her bare ass.

"She can watch.", he said, drawing in the scent from Kirsty's neck, making her shudder.

"I don't think you know just how much you mean to her." Kirsty had to fight to not give in to her own savage instincts. "Your warmth is the only warmth she's ever felt - they only warmth she's ever known. You're inseparable. ...or at least she thought you were. ...until I stole you away with a stupid box."

"It is only fitting for a ruler to have as many concubines as he pleases.", Channard responded, before beginning to passionately nibble as her neck.

Kirsty let out a sudden laugh. "You think that's what it was like?", she smiled. "No, doctor: If we're going to do this, let's do it right. Come with me."

With that Kirsty let go of the leash of her hunger, grabbed Channards cock and thurst it inside her as hard as she could. He gasped in shock from the ferocity, before she wrapped her arms around him and buried her lips in his. A sharp pain shot up from within her crotch, and she wanted it to. She wanted it to have torn something unlubricated, so that every thrust would hurt. She began slamming her hip against his, as hard as her muscles could only muster, her mind diving deep into her memories of her demon's merciless intrusions. The flashbacks hit her in one rapid succession, and she just didn't care. Channard's cock felt warmer than the figure's, though, and soon enough her grunts of selfmutilating efforts turned into the gasps of her first violent orgasm. ...but this time there was nothing left to sully, and the little hurtful pieces within her will that still objected, she was going to fuck to death.

"Jesus, slow down!", he heard her complain, but Kirsty just smiled, as Frank's pull on her was stronger.

She burrowed his cock deep inside her, clasping down around its base to make sure that it maintained its erection, and stared into his bewildered eyes. "You're coming with me whether you like it or not.", she panted, running her fingers through his graying hair. "You asked for this."

With that she picked up the pace again, and as she closed her eyes she was now back in Frank's bedroom, fucking the everliving daylights out of a hybrid of Frank, Channard and the demon, tasting every explosion of pleasure-mixed pain that once again short circuited her nervous system. "We're here, Channard!", she cried out. "I'm feeling his cock inside of me!" She closed her eyes once more, and now there was nothing but her and the cock, and her ramming it home to show the last piece of selfpreserverance, that this was nothing but flesh, and that she had fully and truly matured into a full whore.

Somewhere she heard Channard cry out, and then the penis began to fill her deeper still. She pressed down hard to invite every spurt of disgusting semen into her. It needed to die. The part of her that was still human, had no place in her anymore. She felt her fingers close around something cold. She had it.

"More...", she groaned in a deep, possessed voice, and began riding him again before she was abruptly thrown off.

"Enough!", Channard panted. "I give."

Kirsty looked up from the floor and cackled at him. "Thank you. I needed that.", she grinned with evil. "...and there's more where that came from."

"So much hate.", he said, trying to catch his breath. "Your flesh is truly your prison."

"It isn't part of me.", Kirsty explained. "It's just what I wear."

"Well... ...I think you've earned your reward.", Channard said. "In exchange for your services, I grant you your freedom."

He turned to his jacket, and produced an item from one of his pockets.

...but just as Kirsty had surmised, it wasn't the key to the elevator that he handed her. It was a sharp scalpel.

"Should you wish, the surgeon is standing by to aid you in your escape endeavors. Now go. Leave us."

"'Us'?", Kirsty wondered.

That's when Channard noticed that Tiffany was gone. ...and looking to the opposite side of his chair, so was the box.


	19. Kirsty's betrayal

Kirsty followed the half-naked Channard - dressed in only his jacket and shoes - as he hurried through the halls, looking for his king's apple. His first guess proved to be correct: The child had taken it back to her bedroom.

Kirsty peeked into a world that was a stark contrast to the corridor outside: Toys lined the walls and even the wallpaper had been carefully selected to please and nurture the innocence of a child.

"Tiffany, that isn't yours. It's not a toy for you to play with. Give it back.", Channard said to the child as politely as he could, having cornered her on her bed.

Kirsty positioned herself, and watched as the desperation built in Tiffany's eyes. Once Channard took the box from her, it was over. "Tiffany, trust me!", Kirsty shouted. "Give me the box!"

Before Channard had realized her betrayal, the box sailed past him and landed in front of the door. By the time he had reached the door, Kirsty had already slammed it in his face, the automatic bolt locking in place.

"Kirsty! What the hell are you doing?!", she heard him should through the thin metal hatch, before she left him to rot with his lover. She knew where they kept spare clothes.

She didn't care what happened to them. Eventually the mindless orderly would find them and let them out, but by then she'd be long gone.

Once she was dressed, Kirsty headed for the elevator. Once inside she unpalmed the small key she had lifted during Channard's ejaculation. That, along with manipulating Tiffany into making off with the box, had been the two things that she could actually take credit for. The rest had just been pure luck.

She thanked the stars above when she felt the elevator starting to rise to the ground floor. The clothes she wore would hopefully look plain enough for her to be able to blend as an exiting visitor. Patients in this place was probably forgotten about after a couple of weeks.

 

The elevator doors opened to a bright world that just felt surreal to her. It felt almost like walking through an old movie. It was weird even wearing clothes. Kirsty tried her best not to stare - tried to remember what it was to act normal.

As she passed the main reception and was about to pass the main entrance doors, she heard a nurse call out behind her, but she ignored it and just kept walking, and once out of sight from the interior, she picked up her pace into a jog.

She still wasn't free. She never would be. She was damned to live out her life in a prison underneath her skin, and that was just something that she had to accept and live with.

She rounded another street corner and just kept walking, with no particular destination in mind. A home would be a fresh start. An alleyway could be a temple if you let it.

 

THE END

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...and there you have it: My take on Hellbound.
> 
> From here on I could move on to do Hell on Earth, but at this point I'm exhausted from writing, and I think that there's a possibility that Hell on Earth is such a horrible movie that it can't be salvaged. ...but still I have some ideas.


End file.
